Partners
by SpiritSouls
Summary: Little snippets of the developing partnership between Arcee and Cliffjumper, from the funny moments to the heartbreaking ones and how the two come not only to rely on one another, but so much more.
1. Sharing

After my little angst filled oneshot, I decided to go ahead and pull out a really old fic of these two and finish it up, just to balance things out. In fact, I may do a little series of fun little snippets between these two, because snark+cockyness+romance=win.

I own nothing except for the plot.

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><p>"...Watchoutfortheledge..."<p>

"...Cliff."

"...Mnndecepticonsgottablaster..."

"...Cliff!"

"...nnnhtakeoutthesniper..."

"...Cliffjumper!"

"Zzz... Wha?" Cliffjumper opened his optics to see two beautiful, but rather unhappy, blue orbs looking down at him. He blinked blearily, only partially awake and not quite aware of what was going on. Natural instinct took over, and he darted his optics about the dark room, making out that he was on a simple recharge berth. Memory came back in flash, and he recalled the reason he was here. He and Arcee had arrived at the Autobot base on earth a few days before, and only a single berth had been available, leaving the two with the very awkward yet unavoidable situation of having to share until a new one could be acquired.

"You were talking in your sleep." she hissed out, drawing him back to their current predicament. Judging by the fact that she appeared more annoyed and less furious, he doubted that his dreams had involved anything too inappropriate, as they occasionally did. "Honestly, it's bad enough having to share a berth with you, but do you have to keep me up all night as well?"

"Heh, sorry..." he apologized, sitting up beside her so she no longer looked down on him. He rubbed a servo behind his neck cables, awkwardly avoiding optic contact with her. "I have a tendency to do that sometimes, should've warned you."

She rolled her optics, but didn't seem to have any further comments save for one reminder. "Fine. Next time you do it though, I'm kicking your aft to the floor." He snickered at the remark, knowing full well that she would carry it out in a sparkbeat.

"Message received." he assured as she lay down once more, keeping her back turned to him. He did the same, though, being less bashful, he settled on his back rather than turning away. "I'll save scrapping cons for the daytime." There was a snort from the femme.

"I didn't think you could do that. After all, what else would you dream about?"

Snickering a little at the comment, he decided to push his luck, if only for a little fun.

"I dunno, you?"

There was a pause, and the air crackled with tension.

"Ugh, you mechs, I swear..." much to his amusement (and slight relief) she sounded far more annoyed than angry with his remark. Smirking, he decided to go even further. Pushing boundaries was in his nature, after all.

"What? Lovely femme like you? I doubt I'm the first mech to see you in my dreams..." turning onto his side, he rested his chin on his servo in an almost relaxed position. She kept her back to him, though he could tell that she was doing so only to keep him from the satisfaction of seeing the very annoyed expression on her faceplate.

"Maybe, but all of the ones stupid enough to tell me no longer have the ability to interface, so I don't worry about them much." it was as much a warning as a comeback, and one a wiser mech certainly would have heeded. But then, he'd never had any fun being wise...

"And what about the handsome ones? You wouldn't even think of denying future generations a faceplate as _gorgeous _as this..." she turned at that, rolling onto her back and giving him a look that was plastered with sarcasm.

"Really? If anything, I think I'd be doing our race a favor. _Trigger happy _sparklings are the last thing we need." she said, putting added emphasis on the "trigger happy" just to aggravate the mech. It worked, and she immediately saw the tables turn in their discussion.

"Again with the trigger happy thing?" he repeated, remembering back to her first use of the insult on Cybertron. "Honestly, you're still playing that even after I risked my aft fighting off two of the nastiest cons in the galaxy just to protect your half online hull?" She matched his accusing glare with an unreadable mask, and responded with a dangerously flat voice.

"Of course, _you _saved _me_... Only _after_ I busted_ your _sorry aft out of an interrogation chamber..." he opened his mouth to respond, but the femme was quite quick to cut him off, steadily rising her voice as she continued. "And then dragged _you_ away from certain death through an exploding space bridge, leading us, indirectly, to Optimus Prime and the earth base..." Though her voice had been even up to then, she dropped it to a threatening whisper then, leaning in so close that the mech leaned back from the sheer intensity of her gaze. "So unless I'm mistaken, I've rescued you _twice_, while you've only done the same for me once... Pretty sure that makes us uneven, wouldn't you say, _partner_?" Much to her chagrin, he grinned from audio receptor to audio receptor at the last word, lifting up one servo to point out what she had already realized.

"And in spite of it all, you still call me partner, _partner_." she scoffed, crossing her servos and looking away from his glaringly smug faceplate.

"My standards have lowered extensively over the past millennia or so. That, and I took pity on you."

"Pity, huh?" he repeated, looking uncharacteristically thoughtful at the idea. With a curt nod, she turned back to him.

"Yup. Pity." she narrowed her optics, putting emphasis on her next words to discourage any further discussion on the topic. "_Nothing else_."

"Sure it has nothing to do with my charm?" he asked regardless, and, rather than listen, the femme turned her back to him once more, laying down on the berth as he continued. "Good looks? ... My natural firepower?"

"Good night, Cliff." she clipped sharply.

"Admit it, you dig these guns, don't you? All the femmes do." he teased, though she dared not dignify it with any physical response.

"I said _good night_, Cliffjumper..." she hissed, her tone an obvious warning that this was his final chance to avoid bodily damage. Knowing he was beat, Cliff relented, lying back on the berth with one further comment.

"Yeah yeah, good night..."

He snickered.

"Partner."

She sighed.

"Fragger."

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><p>Fun little fact, this story actually started out with Arcee being... *coff* expecting and therefore very hormonal (and pissed off to the max at being woken up), but I eventually redid the idea simply because the rapid emotional shifting didn't go with the setup. That, and I feel the poor femme is knocked up in my stories often enough as it is...<p>

Both Views and Reviews make my day!


	2. The truth hurts, literally

After the heart breakingness of Crossfire, I figured TFP fans needed a little pick me up, so I took it upon myself to finish up an old fic and get it posted. It's not much, but hopefull you'll all get a little kick out of this, as I had a good time writing it (even though I was half asleep half the time.) And yes, I'm aware that this has striking similarities to another fic I wrote...

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><p>The SAFE room, the personal training quarters of Autobots stationed at Autobot Outpost Omega One, was impressive to say the least. The vast chamber, previously an underground hanger for massive aircraft, had been converted into a state of the art indoor training field. A vast array of turrets, climbing walls, targeting fields and the like, each capable of collaborating to form an infinite number of tests and challenges, allowed for each Autobot to sharpen their individual skills at every level. One could set up a specific time goal to work on speed, power up every turret and sharpen their defensive skills, or just set up the targets for some stress relief.<p>

At the moment, Arcee was going for a combination of all of these.

With an acrobatic leap, she cleared a pulsing turret, firing a shot at it mid jump to shut off the barrage. Her well aimed hit (set at stun, as blowing up the equipment was not the goal of the exercise) collided with the small target at the top of the turret, shutting off the gun. Landing with ease, the femme was allowed no time to enjoy the skillful maneuver, as two smaller, more accurate mini-guns immediately caught her energy signature. Evading the shots with an unpredictable zig-zag of movements, she quickly moved in, unsheathing her wrist blades to slice the barrels off the twin guns. A little unnecessary destruction, but not too much.

Faced with a continued barrage from each side, Arcee transformed, taking advantage of the tremendous speed her alt mode offered to avoid the onslaught. There was a small pinch of pain on her right side as one of the practice rounds made contact, and she quickly berated herself for the slip up. Had this been real, the shot would have done far worse than scratch her paint job. Putting it behind her, she pushed herself faster, screeching around a corner and into the final leg of her selected course.

_Here comes the hard part..._ she reminded herself, optical sensors focused on the missile launching turret coming up on her right. The hulking weapon droned to life as it detected her, sliding on it's base to follow her movements and line up a shot. Pushing herself to her limit, the femme braced herself for evasive maneuvers, waiting until she heard the "thunk" of the projectiles launch to move. Cutting a hard left, she felt the heat of the explosion as the missile smashed to the ground at her side, blackening the already stained concrete and leaving a noticeable crater amongst dozens of others from previous training sessions. She repeated the move for the remaining three missiles, waiting until the last moment to preform each sharp turn of avoidance.

The femme crossed the white line at the end of the course, swirling to a stop and transforming back to her bipedal form in a single, fluid movement. Looking over at the large, digital watch just above the viewing window on the far side of the room, she couldn't help but let out a small exclamation of satisfaction. Two minutes, fifty eight seconds, eight seconds better than her previous best and a new course record. Only two months had passed since she had come to the base on earth and already she was seeing benefits. Perhaps being part of a team wasn't so bad after all...

"Well well, pretty impressive for a femme..."

Except, of course, for that.

"Considering my time's better than any of yours, what does that say about you?" Arcee retorted, turning to face her recently acquired partner. Cliffjumper, who had obviously been enjoying the show, leaned casually against the wall beside the finish line.

"You're just all about speed." the mech explained, stepping toward her. "Me? I'm a powerhouse." With obvious pride, the mech flexed his powerful servos, drawing an optic roll from the femme.

"Strength doesn't do you any good if you're too slow to get in a hit." she snapped right back, keeping her voice neutral in the face of the teasing mech.

"And that hit doesn't do you any good unless you're strong enough to make it count." he replied with ease, having since become accustomed to the femmes habit if never giving in to an argument.

"You seem pretty sure of that..." was all she could say as they at last stood pede to pede, suddenly feeling like their conversation was actually heading somewhere.

"It keeps me from making mistakes like that." he pointed to the small ding in her paint job from the unlucky hit, located on the lower left of her chest plate.

"Optics up." she snapped, slapping his hand away, though he only smirked playfully in response. "It's just a little nick in my paint job anyway, not nearly as bad as some of the scraps you've gotten us into. Speed is far more important than strength in combat."

"Really? How about putting that little theory to the test?" he challenged, looking down at the femme. "You, me, the sparring ring. No rules, just strength versus speed. What do you say, _partner_?" She cocked her helm as she stared the mech down, putting her servos on her hips as she responded slowly and deliberately.

"If you think you can handle it, I'm game." Arcee returned his challenging smirk, though there was nothing playful about the determination in her optics. If this partnership of theirs was going to last, she needed to teach him that she was not just another air helmed little femme who would swoon at his beck and call. She intended to beat him, badly.

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><p>"Hope you're ready to dance, Arcee. I don't plan on holding back..."<p>

His servos held up and close in a defensive position, Cliff added emphasis to his words with two punches to the air. Keeping her own stance more professional, the femme simply rolled her neck cables, holding her servos close and her keeping her footing light.

"Likewise, Cliff. Likewise..." She responded, voice even save for the faintest of grins tugging at her faceplate. He wasn't the first mech to underestimate her, and odds were he wouldn't be the last.

"Ladies first..." He teased, beckoning her forward.

"Whatever you say." She agreed, lurching forward and delivering a pre-calculated blow to his chin. It was a quick, clean uppercut, and though her momentum was not nearly enough to stagger a mech like himself, Cliff was still surprised by the power of the blow, which had produced a few sparks on impact. Ducking away before he could retaliate, she kept herself at a calculated distance, letting the mech recover.

"Nice hit..." He complimented, sounding almost sincere, rolling his neck cables and taking a more defensive stance. "You trained in hand to hand?"

"I've taken a few lessons..." She responded, going in to deliver another quick jab. Anticipating the move, Cliff skillfully deflected it with one servo, striking out with the other. "Looks like-" she ducked under the impending blow, getting in a quick jab as she did so. "-you've had some training as well." Stepping back to avoid any further blows, he responded with a smirk.

"I've picked up a few things over the years. Though I didn't have any of the formal academy training you did." He began to circle in an attempt to find an opening in her defense, and she quickly did the same.

"How'd you know I went to the academy?" She asked, ducking smoothly to the side as he moved in and threw a quick right swing. "I never told you-" She bobbed and weaved as he threw two more punches, taking advantage of her smaller size to avoid them. "-or anyone else here."

"You didn't ne-hrg!" He stopped as she managed to get in a good blow to the side of his faceplate, but he took advantage of the moment to deliver his first connecting punch, hitting the femme square in the shoulder blade and staggering her. "I saw it on your service record back on Cybertron, when I helped rescue you from the Cons." Recovering from the previous blow, Arcee moved in for a more powerful blow, getting through the mechs defense and glancing the side of his faceplate. Cliff retaliated, but only managed to deliver a glancing blow as she blocked with her forearm.

"I see..." She responded, taking a few breaths to cool her heating inner components. "I never-" she dodged another hit, getting in a quick jab to his well armored side. "-got to thank you for that."

"I don't think I deserve much thanks." He said casually, taking a step back to roll his neck cables. She paused to give her shoulders a quick flex, feeling the stress of the workout beginning to take it's toll. He was better than she'd expected, she gave him that.

"Really? Why?" She questioned, going back in with renewed vigor to deliver several quick punches to his faceplate. Growing accustomed to her style, he managed to block half of the blows, though his face received several new dings in the process. "After all... I'm the hurg!" With a well timed left, Cliff had managed to catch the femme in the side, giving her a good sized dent of her own. Moving back a step to regain herself, the femme finished her sentence with a bit of a wheeze. "The one who... managed to get caught... And lose a partner..."

"If I had been faster... You wouldn't... Have lost him..." Cliff responded, panting to cool his own insides as the stress pushed his components to the limit. Not holding back, he threw a few more powerful punches at the femme, and though she dodged each one, he could see the fatigue was getting to her as well. Soon his own lack of speed wouldn't matter. This was just as obvious to Arcee, as she began making the most of each punch, aiming each punch for maximum efficiency.

"Can't... Blame yourself..." She assured, sidestepping so they began to circle each other once more. He chuckled at that, responding with teasing sincerity.

"You're... Hardly the bot... To criticize for unnecessary blame." Arcee stopped dead in her tracks at that, giving Cliff a steady look.

"What... Are you implying?" She launched forward with another blow, catching the mech off guard and giving him a new dent on his blocking servo.

"Just that... Hah!" He blocked another hit from the femme, retaliating with a screeching glance to her shoulder that scratched her paint and sent sparks flying. "You seem... To blame yourself... For his death, even when... Hurg! You couldn't... Have done anything..." Gritting her dentals, the femme gave several quick blows in time with her response.

"And what, hah! Gave you, that impression, nyah!" Cliff simply held up his powerful servos to block the barrage, though the newfound strength in the femmes blows was far from underwhelming.

"You... Started taking a lot more risks afterwards... Almost like... You didn't care whether... You lived or died..." He struck out again, but she dodged with ease, finding a new speed as he continued to slow. "Like with... The space bridge... It seemed... Like you didn't care..." The femme was on the attack now, striking out with fury and precision, but the mech kept going.

"It's like- Ah! You wanted to be with him again..."

That one little sentence snapped something within the femme, and she let out a roar of fury. Charging forward with freakish strength, she bent low, lifting the mech clear off the ground and sending him over her back to crash on the ground with an earth rattling boom. Cliffjumper let out a gasp of pain as the world flipped and he collided with the concrete, feeling it crack beneath his weight as he allowed himself to lie there and process what had just happened. Squeezing his optics open, he found himself staring upward at Arcee, who looked down at him with a livid fury in her optics, chest heaving from the exertion of her physics defying maneuver. But, in a sparkbeat, all if that fury dimmed, and he saw her pedes tremble from exhuastion. Ignoring his pain, Cliff hauled himself to his pedes, steadying the femme before she could lose her balance.

"You're right..." She whispered, allowing herself to be supported in a rare admission of defeat. "I didn't care... I wanted to be with him again..." Cliff found himself at a loss for words, though the femme continued and left him with no need. "I lost a purpose, I lost myself..." Lifting her helm, she gave him a weak smile, optics brightening. "Then I found you..."

"Me?" He questioned, battered faceplate going blank. "But I'm..."

"You're what I needed..." She finished, shifting her smile to more of a smirk. "Guess my standards have really dropped, huh?"

"Hey, if it let's me in, I'm all for it." Cliff responded, glad to see the return of her usual snark. The pain such a simple action as smiling gave him brought back his rather beaten current state, and he changed the subject. "How about some energon and a quick buff? You certainly gave my poor husk a beating..." She chuckled, but winced at the pain it brought her, smiling through the discomfort.

"You nailed me good a couple of times too, but I'd definitely say I won..."

"Yeah sure, speed won a round but just you wait, all I need is a good recharge, some energon..." He stopped as a spasm from yet another injury gave a painful protest. "And maybe a trip to the med bay..."

In spite of the pain from her own injuries, the femme laughed along with him, feeling a lightness in her spark that she hadn't felt in eons.

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><p>If you can tell me where I got the inspiration for this scene, you get an internet cookie. Otherwise, I hope you enjoyed!<p>

Also, for those less genre savvy, the SAFE room is something that so far has only appeared in the comics, but I found it so tempting I had to work it into a fic.


	3. What a Partner is For1

Please Read!

Okay, to avoid confusion, I think I'd better clear this up. Partners is meant to function as a single... file, if you will, for me to post all of my little Cliff/Arcee oneshots that are too weak to be posted as individual stories or the like, rather than a chronological set of related oneshots. As such, when you read, it's best to just assume that each chapter is totally AU from the other unless I specify otherwise. For instance, this little beauty here is going to be a two parter, with the later half being posted when it's completed.

(I'm doing this mostly to keep my profile uncluttered, not that I dislike random and short one shots, they're just not my style of writing.)

So without further ado, enjoy the first part a rather violent and emotional little tidbit that quite literally came out of nowhere!

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><p>Energon, hot with life and glowing faintly in the dim light, gushed from the open wound that had been torn into the center of Arcee's chest panels. Optics going wide in pain and terror, the femme covered the gash with her servos, struggling in vain to stem the flow and completely abandoning her battle with the vehicon who had just inflicted the injury. Taking advantage of his adversaries weakness, the Con didn't hesitate to level the Autobot with a powerful blow to her midsection, sending her flying backward. With jarring force, the femme landed on her back, sending waves of agony from her injury as she settled, unable to move in her pain as it racked her systems. Still clutching the open and bleeding injury, she struggled to gain some control of her badly beaten hull, but the rapid loss of energon was making her delirious. The treetops seemed to spin around her in a dizzying display, and she was barely able to register the thudding footsteps of the approaching Vehicon. In a display that was as cruel as it was unnecessary, the con planted his pede on her chest to pin her, digging deep to agitate the wound. Crying out with pain, Arcee looked on with half online optics as the enemy drew his weapon. Struggling, she managed a defiant glare at her soon to be murderer, looking straight into the barrel as it charged.<p>

"Any last words, Autobot?" The con sneered as the weapon reached full power, it's high ringing signaling it's readiness to fire. Gritting her dentals as she stifled the urge to cough up energon, the fading femme rasped out a response.

"G-go... fra-ag... yours-self..." Snorting in contempt, the Con aimed his weapon, preparing to fire a point blank shot. Unable to even hold her helm aloft, the femme went limp on the soft forest floor, trying to ignore the feel of her own energon pooling around her as she waited for the shot.

But it never came.

A roaring battle cry ripped through the silence, along with the sound of crushing and snapping timbers as Cliffjumper tore into the clearing. His own front stained with the energon of a recently scrapped con, the mech wasted no time ploughing down his foe, using his full weight to take the enemy to the ground. The Vehicons weapon discharged harmlessly onto the air, and he was unable to defend himself as the much larger Autobot pinned him down. Cliff, his normally confident features contorted into a snarl of rage, immediately began to pound the Con into scrap.

"**GET. AWAY. FROM. MY. PARTNER**!" He roared, emphasizing each word with a devastating blow to the Decepticons upper body. The Vehicon held up it's servos in a futile attempt at self defense, enduring the hits as his faceplate was pounded into scrap.

"Mer-er-cy!" He managed to choke out, gargling energon and sparking from several open wounds. Optics going livid in blinding rage, Cliffjumper took the con by his throat, crushing his voice box and forcing more energon to gurgle up from his throat.

"**MERCY**? Like the mercy you showed her?" Cliff accused, and all the Vehicon could do was crackle out a static laden and incomprehensible response. With a final roar, the mech pounded his fist deep into the Cons chest plate, grabbing hold of the circular spark chamber. Yanking hard, he lifted the still vibrating organ from the enemies chest cavity, holding it just before the dying cons optics. Sputtering in pain and horror, the Vehicon attempted in vain to lift his servos to stop Cliff as he crushed the device just before him, spattering fresh energon over them both. The enemy went limp, spasming only once before his optics went dark. Breathing deeply as his fans struggled to cool his overworking insides, Cliff stood up, hard optics looking over the unrecognizable mess of metal and energon that had once been the Vehicon. With a gasp, the fury fell from his optics, and he abandoned the lifeless husk to rush to his partners side. Arcee lay motionless, a pool of her own energon surrounding her battered frame. Kneeling, the mech lifted her into his servos, cradling her helm as he tried to urge her to respond.

"Cee... Come on, wake up... I'm right here, you're safe now. Come on, please, open your optics..." There was no response, and he held her closer, desperation seeking into his voice. "Stay with me soldier, you've been through worse, please..." _I shouldn't have split us up..._ He told himself, his frame trembling with growing horror and grief. _We should have expected scouts... It's my fault... We could have taken them together, I'm sorry..._ A painful cough broke through his thoughts, and he watched with disbelief as the femme opened her optics, coughing up energon in alarming amounts.

"C... Cl... Cliff..." Her voice rasped, dim optics focusing on his faceplate. Further words were cut off as another bout of coughing racked her injured frame, energon leaking from her chest wound even faster than before. A sense of relief unlike anything he'd ever known swept over his spark, but he forced himself to focus. She was alive, but even he could tell she was critical, and needed help immediately. As gently as he could, he shushed her, speaking softly to keep her calm.

"Shhh... Just stay still, I'm getting you out of here. Hold on..." Activating his comm, he was relieved to find the signal that had been jamming it was gone, likely due to the termination of the Decepticons who had been transmitting it. "Ratchet? Docbot? Come on, Ratchet!" There was still some static, but a response came in quickly.

"Cliffjumper? You and Arcee are not scheduled to report in for another four hours, has something-"

"Need a bridge doc, and get your medical kit ready. Arcee's hurt, bad." Not a moment after the mech had finished speaking did the femme have another spasm of coughing, and Cliff became horrifically aware of the fact that his front was now covered in fresh energon, _her_ energon. And she was only losing more... "Hurry..."

"I'm locking onto your coordinates now." The medic responded, voice tense but even. "Keep her awake." Cliff nodded, looking down at the barely conscious femme and assuring himself as much as her.

"Hang on a little longer partner, help's on the way." He encouraged the semi-conscious femme, though the thought brought little comfort to either one of them. The femme was now barely aware, and fading fast, her normally bright blue optics going dim and grey. He bit his lip, struggling to keep his own emotion in check for her sake, "Just hang on..."

"Cliff..." She whispered, frame shaking in a textbook sign of heavy energon loss. "C-Cliff... I..." A powerful series of coughs rattled her frame, and she was unable to complete her sentence. The struggle was clear on her weakened features, she wanted to say something, just in case, but she couldn't in her current state. The much larger mech cradled her closer, feeling her frame growing cold. She couldn't waste energy on words, no matter how important they may have been. Cupping the side of her face, he urged her to look at him, encouraging her gently but firmly.

"Just keep your optics open, partner. I'm right here. You can tell me everything later, alright? We're getting you out of here..." A sharp hum momentarily precluded the flash of green from the ground bridge as it whirled into existence in front of them, lighting up the forest with a cyan glow. Ratchet appeared not a moment later with his medical kit in hand, with Optimus following just behind, blasters open and held aloft in a defensive pose.

"By the Allspark..." The medic was by the femmes side in nanokliks, his trained optics scanning her frame with precision.

"Ambush." Cliff said to Prime, who stood beside Ratchet, his weapons still drawn but his stoic optics focused solely in the femme. "We were split up, and they scrambled our signals. Looks like they were scouting the same signal as us." Optimus nodded gravely, and it did not take long for Ratchet to finish his brief examination. Without a word, the medic took a needle from his bag, adjusting the femmes head to allow him better access to her wound. Cliff watched as he skillfully inserted the needle under her chest armor, finding his intended target and administering the dose within moments. No sooner had he removed the needle than did the femme react, jerking awake and opening her optics wide in panicked delirium. For a moment, Cliff worried that her reaction might have been out of pain, but Ratchet quickly explained.

"Stimulants to keep her conscious, they won't last long. Get her back into the base." Following the medics order, Cliff stood, cradling the femme in his servos as he stepped through the bridge, with Optimus guarding them from behind. Ratchet walked in step beside Cliff, applying pressure to the wound and somewhat stemming the flow of energon. "As soon as we're through, take her to the med bay. Optimus? Contact Bumblebee and Bulkhead, we don't need any more injuries."

"Understood." Came their leaders response as they stepped into the base at last, and Cliffjumper immediately followed Ratchets lead. Leaving their leader to call in the other Autobots, they moved quickly to the medical bay, and Cliff looked with worry at his partner. The stimulants were clearly already wearing off, as Arcee was already beginning to fade once more, her optics dimming even with the aid of the medic. Just hang in there partner... He willed silently. We're almost there... Stepping into the medical bay, Ratchet removed his hand from the wound, giving orders with experienced coolness.

"Set her down on the berth there, Cliffjumper. Mind her injury... Yes, like that. Now stay here, I'm going to need assistance." Settling her wounded frame into the berth, Cliffs optics went wide at the final command.

"Doc, I'm not a medic-"

"You are now. Just do what I tell you and it'll be fine." Though he was terrified that he could easily do more harm than good, Cliff nodded. If there was some way he could help, he had to try, no matter how unlikely that seemed. "I need to get a better look at the internal damage, see if you can angle her upper body for me." Biting his lip, the mech slipped his servos beneath the femme, lifting her upper torso gingerly off the berth. Arcee let out a brief whimper of pain at the motion, though Cliff made himself ignore her discomfort to follow the medics command. Wiping off the energon staining the wound with a sterile cloth, Ratchet narrowed his optics in concern. The injury was one long, clean, semi-vertical gash that began the right side of her neck and stretched down to the bottom left of her chest armor. Even now, energon pumped from the previously clean opening, though all Cliff was able to focus on was the pain it caused the femme.

"It's deep, probably a severed energon wire. I'll need to open her up to repair it and stop the leaking." In spite of everything, Cliff felt his faceplate flush with embarrassment at the suggestion.

"You don't mean..." He trailed off, and Ratchet snapped back with annoyance. He didn't have the time or patience for such objections.

"Yes, Cliffjumper. You're going to see her spark. Now mech up and keep her still for me..." Biting back further protest for Arcee's sake, Cliff watched silently as the medic attempted to gain her attention, though his faceplate glowed a faint blue in embarrassment. He had seen spark chambers before, sure, but this wasn't just some femme spending the night in his quarters. This was Arcee, his partner, and the thought that he would be seeing her... like _that_, made him feel like he was betraying her.

"Arcee? Arcee, can you hear me?" The medic attempted to gain her attention, though Arcee seemed to have finally slipped into a blissful unconsciousness. "Arcee, if you can hear me, I need you to give me some kind of sign. Please, you need to stay awake for me..." A faint cough issued from the femme, and her optics opened a crack. The medic took the side of her helm in his hand, focusing her field of vision entirely on him. "I'm going to try and fix you, but I need you to open your chest panels for me, alright? Can you do that?" Arcee could only look back in confusion for the longest time, her narrowed optics showing the effort it was taking just to stay conscious, let alone process thought. Finally, her frame clenching in effort, the femme forced her mangled chest panels to shift, revealing her internal components. Cliff felt his own spark skip a beat at the sight. Gears, cogs, wires, tubes, and various components all hummed and clicked with smooth efficiency. And, vibrating in the center of it all, her spark chamber. The sacred orb containing her life force, meant only to be viewed by bondmates and medics, and he was seeing it. He felt like he was betraying all of their trust just by being there... These thoughts were pushed aside when he spotted the gashed metal pipe, nearly split in two, that was currently leaking energon through and over her frame.

"That's it." The medic declared, transforming his servo into a welder. "Hold her still while I stop the leaking." He quickly went in, taking hold of the severed wire to temporarily stop the flow and, with surprising nimbleness, setting it to the controlled flame. The femmes reaction was instantaneous, her optics going wide in pain as the heat burned at the most sensitive components in her entire body. Acting on instinct, the femme brought out one of her arm blades, and Cliff was barely able to restrain her with his free servo, taking her much smaller hand in his. He angled her so he could hold her still more effectively, though she was not able to put up much of a fight after her initial move. _I'm sorry..._ He apologized, watching as her face pinched tight in pain. _I'm so sorry... _"Almost got it..." Ratchet assured them all, working with efficiency, as he knew all too well the pain he was causing the femme. "I only need a temporary seal" The welder at last closed the gap, stemming the tide of energon at last. "Got it! It'll hold until I can replace the damaged tube." He looked over the vital stats read out on his arm, brows furrowing in concern. "Right now she needs processed energon, her levels are critical. There's no time to prepare a solution from our supplies, she needs a transfusion. Get Op-"

"Take mine." Cliffjumper said without hesitation. Ratchet looked with surprise at the younger mech, optics glancing over the energon staining his front. He had assumed that the mech had been slightly injured, but could all of that energon just be from a combination of battle and cradling the injured femme? Years of dealing with injuries had taught him how to recognize different patterns of energon spatter, and now that he truly looked, he saw that most of it had come from high velocity impacts, clearly during battle. Regardless, he had a willing and capable donor before him, and he would not waste that.

"Set her down, gently. I'll get the equipment ready." With a nod, Cliff lowered her onto the berth, settling her down as comfortably as he could. His optics shifted to her still open chest cavity, meaning to look over the damaged pipe but instead settling on her spark chamber. Looking away immediately, he berated himself, feeling twisted guilt well it's way into his own spark. He had failed to stop her from getting hurt, and now he was further violating her privacy. Hopefully, giving some of his own supply of energon would allow him some kind of redemption, at least in her optics, perhaps.

"Lie down." The medic instructed as he prepared his equipment, gesturing to another open berth just beside Arcee's. Without, Cliff obeyed the order, lying down and waiting for further instructions. He'd met bots who had done energon transfusions before, and from what he'd been told, it was not pleasant. Still, he doubted any of the discomfort the process would cause him could even compare to what Arcee was going through, who now appeared to have fallen into a fitful unconsciousness. Ratchet quickly prepped the necessary tools for the transfusion, which appeared to consist only of a long clear tube that ended with differently shaped syringes on both sides. He prepared Arcee first, sticking the smaller needle meant for the recipient into the armor gap at her elbow joint, and even though she was subconscious she winced at the pain. Making sure the needle was secure, Ratchet moved quickly over to Cliff, and the younger mech couldn't stop a wince of his own as the larger needle dug into his vein.

"Lie still, she's going to need a lot, and I need you to remain conscious." Cliff nodded, watching with awe as the energon pumped from his own servo and into the clear tube, glowing faintly as it moved to the waiting recipient. As soon as the much needed energon hit her veins, the femme seemed to relax, letting out a faint sigh as her frame settled. The fact that he was finally able to help his partner allowed Cliff to somewhat ignore the unpleasant feeling of dizziness that the energon loss was causing him, though it was much harder to ignore as the sensation grew more intense. Settling the palm of his free servo over his helm, he closed his optics tight as the feeling grew worse, even to the point where his own spark began to ache at the loss of much needed energon.

"There, that's enough." Ratchet declared, having been keeping a close optic on both of their vital statistics. He removed the needle from Cliffs vein, closing the wound with a metallic gauze and going to Arcee to do the same. "Both of your energon levels are functioning, but far below optimal. I'd recommend that you get some rest." He turned back, wrapping up the cord and setting it to the side for sterilization later. Cliff shook his helm, trying to sit up and recalling the medics previous statement that Arcee would need more repairs.

"Nah, I feel fine doc... Besides, Cee... needs more repairs..." He was pushed back firmly but gently onto the berth.

"Arcee will need further repairs after she has rested, but you've done more than enough for her already. The best thing you can do for your partner now, is rest." Ratchet admonished, sounding notably less grumpy than normal. He quickly returned to his previous gruffness, taking on the stern tone that they were far more accustomed to. "Because the last thing I need is another injury to patch up."

"Rest... Great, yeah..." The mech repeated after a long pause, too woozy to further argue the rather pleasant sounding suggestion. Settling back on the berth, he lolled his head in the direction of Arcee. As the berth was optic level and adjacent to the femme, he was able to take one last look at her before dozing off, feeling somewhat at peace with himself knowing that he had done all he could for her.

That's what a partner was for, after all.

* * *

><p>Hm... I'm sorta happy with this one, it's kinda... outside of my usual style, but I like it. Hence why I'll be adding part 2 pretty soon. Expect more one shots soon, I've been full of inspiration lately!<p>

Thanks for reading!


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